


Another Country, And the Wench

by QuinFirefrorefiddle



Category: Doctor Who, Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Crossover, Marriage, Multi, Pre-Canon, Threesome, Time Loop, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-15
Updated: 2009-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-02 22:17:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuinFirefrorefiddle/pseuds/QuinFirefrorefiddle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was slimmer than he remembered, with a scar over one eye and shorter hair.  But she was still Annie.  'Damn, I was right.'  He went to take her arm out of habit, one he thought he'd lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Country, And the Wench

**Author's Note:**

> Set some time after Last of the Time Lords. There's a Dorothy Sayers reference. Many thanks to wendymr @ Dreamwidth for being an excellent beta!

“Oh, Doctor, look at that!” Rose exclaimed.  The space station was nothing special to look at.  It served the recreational needs of miners from seven of New Hamburg's moons, and it was kind of falling apart.  There were exposed pipes in the corridors, and you could see rivets on some of the interior walls.  Had there been any paint, it would have been flaking.  But the view, to borrow a phrase, was _fantastic_.   


The Doctor crowded behind Rose at the 'port, and Jack stood on her other side, keeping one eye on the people moving through the corridor.  This place might be celebrating, but Jack was settled into his role of watching his partners' backs wherever they went.  Soldiers, pilots and a few miners moved behind them, not a one of them in a hurry, and several of them took a moment to check out him and his partners.  He shot a smug glance at the ones who were polite about it and ignored the rest_._ Bouncy dance music with a catchy back beat drifted from the bars into the corridors.   


The Rift in Cardiff had brought them together just after the Year That Never Was.  It had taken them three days to nail down what had happened.  Then the Doctor had made Jack's phone a little more sonic, so Torchwood could call him with emergencies, and the three of them had piled into the TARDIS once again.  And they had been adventuring for four years now.   


The last few weeks had been rough, so they had decided to look for something a little less life-threatening than usual.  The Doctor had suggested New Hamburg's mining station for the view, originally, and Jack had suggested showing up just after the end of the 4896 Civil War, as the party was supposed to be _great_.  (Fifth most important lesson the Agency ever taught him: civil wars that ended without genocide or longterm embargoes were great for parties, any century.)   


They hadn't exactly expected the Raxicorican Winged Sloths in the furnace room, but that had only taken a few hours to sort out, and now they were in search of a drink.  But Rose kept getting distracted by the views out the 'ports, and the Doctor was always happiest these days when indulging one of his companions - aside from when he was being right, or ruffling his own hair, of course.   


After a few more moments, Jack pointed out that the 'ports in the next bar along were likely to be much larger than this one.  Also, given that it was the station's main bar, probably pointed towards the sometimes-almost-intersecting orbits of all fifteen moons, rather than the more standard view of the clouds of the planet below they had at the moment.  So they moved on.   


Two corridors, three drug offers and one attempt by a large, fuzzy stranger to buy Rose, later, they entered the main bar of the station.  They were on the middle level, tables and booths stretched out right and left edging the center well, filled with dancers, with another balcony above, cantilevered stairways to it scattered throughout.  The far wall was packed with 'ports, offering an impressive view of the dance of the moons around each other and the planet.   


“Everyone's so happy here - makes for a nice change, doesn't it?” Rose commented.  The Doctor simply grinned in response, and Jack hugged Rose with one arm while taking in the crowd.     


Mostly soldiers again, celebrating the end of the war, most of whom seemed to be behaving themselves- at least according to the time and culture.  He couldn't see any visible weapons, which fit with the disarmament laws put into place a few days beforehand, at the Armistice.  Of course, he had a few things squirreled away, but no one in this time and place would be able to detect them without getting very up-close and personal.  Which wouldn't be happening.   


Rose had spotted the dance floor, and taking the Doctor and Jack by the hands, started leading them towards it.  The three of them had got so skilled at moving through crowds together that the only distinguishing factors between the hundreds of soldiers for Jack were shoulders and hair- sloped and wispy blonde, broad and buzz cut, slim but square and wavy brunette.   

  


And hang on, something about the cant of those shoulders was familiar.  Reminded him of someone, a very specific someone, but she was dead, he was pretty sure, so who could this be?  Jack tugged away from Rose for a moment, motioning he'd return, and she turned back to the Doctor's explanations.   


“The mines here have been operational for the past 350 years, and the only reason it wasn't earlier is because refining New Hamburg fire amethysts involves some very precise laser polishing.  It has to happen so exactly that it needs the Bradley-Wimsey AI in order to get the job done....”  As Jack moved around the dance floor among the tables on the middle level, following the brunette, the Doctor's voice faded away.   


The mystery woman wore an officer's uniform, and while he hadn't picked up all the insignia yet, he thought she'd be mid-level.  Jack was fairly certain he knew this woman, was even reasonably certain he had known her body quite well, once upon a time.  But his memories had been piling up rather quickly of late, and he was still fuzzy on the details.  Something told him  these memories had a positive spin, though, and he knew seeing her face would help.     


He spared a quick glance for the dance floor and spotted Rose and the Doctor, trying to swing dance to music that seemed a little too similar to disco.  The Doctor glanced over and nodded, and Jack nodded back before turning back to the chase.   


Finally, the brunette sat down at a small table with two younger officers.  Jack carefully edged around the crowd and tables in order to approach her from the side, and finally, tapped her on the shoulder.   


“_Jack?_”  She did a classic double-take, and flinched away hard from his touch before she stood.  Her face was as ashen as her uniform.     


And all his memories came back with a _thud_.  “Annie!”  _She's not dead.  She's not_ _dead?  But....  _ She was slimmer than he remembered, with a scar over one eye and shorter hair.  But she was still Annie. _ Damn, I was right. _ He went to take her arm out of habit, one he thought he'd lost.   


The two young officers stood up and looked to her for direction.  “Captain Harkness, is there a problem?”   


Jack opened his mouth to speak, but she got there first.  Her voice was steady as she addressed them, and only someone who knew her like Jack did would be able to tell just how deeply shaken she was.  “No, lieutenants, take your seats.  I need to have a word with my husband.”    


The two officers looked surprised, but sat down obediently, and Jack gave a surprised glance to her rank insignia. 

  


She took his arm and they walked to a nearby booth.  She smelled different, which surprised him a bit more than it should have.  4896 New Hamburg and 1909 Cardiff had enough atmospheric chemical differences that the scent he had always associated with her – dried lavender and chalk dust – would have been a noticeable anachronism.  Instead she had a faint air of burnt charcoal and weapons oil.   


He shoved the memories threatening to rise, full of rustling newspapers and windswept sunshine, out of the way, and forced his mind into proper logical form.  _If she's not dead, it means she left.  And who the hell would kidnap Annie, so she did it willingly.  _ He noticed color slowly returning to her face as they sat down on the squeaky foam rubber-like seats, and decided to skip the preliminaries.  She'd left him, she hadn't earned them – though half-forgotten instincts of affection still kept any serious edge from his voice.  “How long has it been for you, Annie?”   


“About a year and a half.  You?”  Annie stared dazedly at the table, and her hands shook slightly as she spoke.  She started fidgeting with the paper napkin dispenser.  


He couldn't keep the resentment out of his voice this time.  “A lot longer than that.”  _ Yes, all right, so clearly you know about time-travelling or you couldn't get here from 1913.  But damn, I am not having the immortality conversation right now._   


Annie flinched a bit at his tone, and stopped fidgeting to look him straight in the eye.  Her voice was firm this time, and the words had a practiced rhythm to them.  “I am so sorry, Jack.  I hated leaving you – but I had to come.”   


“Did you.”  He had no trouble returning the stare, though it was just plain strange to look her full in the face after more than a century thinking she was dead.  Well, mostly thinking she was dead.  Nagging doubts he had dismissed as rampant paranoia suddenly counted in ways he really didn't appreciate.   


“I wasn't born in Reading in 1889 – I'm sure you've figured that out.  This is my home, and even if I wasn't exactly planning on coming back here, they needed me.”   


“Oh, I'm sure they never could have settled this without you, _Captain Harkness_.”  The shock had started to wear off, and anger was starting to settle in.  “I'm _sure_ you had to fake your own death.  I always sorta wondered if maybe you didn't die, since they never found the body.  I looked hard enough.”  He should have known better.  How many centuries of this crap would it take?  


Annie slapped the table.  “Don't talk to me like I'm other people, Jack.  You're not angry because I kept your name, or even because I lied to you- you're angry because you never figured out that I wasn't a native.”  A hundred years ago, that kind of fire from her would have turned him on.  (And it had; often enough, their late night arguments were practically foreplay.)   


Abandonment did a real number on his libido, though.  Jack laughed mirthlessly.  “Yeah, that.  And then there's the fact that you left me to think you'd drowned in the river.  The nightgown was a nice touch.”   


“I said I'm sorry for that, Jack- but I couldn't know I'd survive this.  I couldn't- _wouldn't_\- leave you thinking I had just up and abandoned you, so I had to make it look like that.  I was going to come back to before you woke up and get it back, and you never would have known.”  She ripped a napkin out of the dispenser, and started to crumple and re-crumple it.   


“So I can think it now, instead.  Thanks, Annie.”   


“Well it works out that way, now that we've run into each other.  That wasn't the plan.  I was going to get decommissioned next month, now that the Armistice is signed, and come back to you.  But _you_ just had to say hello.”  And it was Annie's chance to be angry, and Jack's turn to be ashen-faced.   


“So that's why....”   


“Yeah, Jack.  That's why I wasn't exactly thrilled to see you just now.”  She always had been able to keep up a good poker face, but grief was starting to slip through, now that they were settling into the conversation.   


He'd been traveling with the Doctor long enough to know she was right.  His presence here, meeting her, set all this into stone in both of their timelines.  She might have been planning to fix this, but it couldn't happen anymore.  They could never go back, now.   


The table between them seemed wider than ever. 

  


“But why were you there in the first place?”  _Who'd want to leave this – or anywhere – for Edwardian England?_   


Annie huffed and her face smoothed as she sat back.  “It was my entrance test for the Time Guild.  I was supposed to be there two weeks- but I met you my third day and... well, you remember the rest.”  She almost smirked, but stopped when his expression didn't flicker.  The shock of seeing her alive was wearing off a little, but he wasn't ready for levity.   


“You were going into the Guild?  Really?”  The Guild was the primary forerunner to the Time Agency, only with ethics.  And a hefty entrance fee, which had kept it out of Jack's reach in his younger days.  “You could afford that?”   


“Think about it, Jack.  My maiden name was Bradley, which was perfectly normal in 1909 Cardiff, but here in New Hamburg-”   


And the connection clicked into place.  “Bradley, as in the Bradley-Wimsey AI?”   


“Yes.  Which is why they really did need _me_ to come back.  My older sister was set to inherit the family business, which is why I could join the Guild.  But then all this started, and they needed our resources.”  She glanced at the cheap paper napkin clutched in her hands, and began to shred it.   


“And you're in uniform because....”   


“The military requires all of the companies which supply them to have at least one, and preferably several, of the major stockholders on the front lines.  To 'ensure product quality,' as it were.  My sister has health problems which preclude her from serving, and the Wimseys went off crime-fighting or something and sold us most of their stock years ago.  It had to be me.”   


Jack folded his arms and gave her an easy one while he thought things over.  “For what, so the military could mine more fire amethysts?”   


She shot him an annoyed glance.  “Don't play stupid with me, Jack.  Our AI has several uses, many of which are adaptable to military needs.  And of course they needed fire amethysts- it isn't like they could just print money and expect it to stay worth something.”   


He had to remind himself that he'd spent a century thinking her dead to keep his voice even.  “And you couldn't have told me any of this?” He used a trick he had picked up from the Doctor, caught her gaze, and held it.     


She didn't try to look away, and she sounded resigned.  “You didn't spot I wasn't native, Jack.  I didn't spot you either.  And the idea of explaining this to an Edwardian wasn't really something I looked forward to.”  The napkin was nearly disintegrated now.   


“So you'd just come back and I'd never know you were gone?  With that scar and your hair?”  He blinked as a thought struck him.  _Well, all right, I've pulled that trick before._   


“Cosmetic surgery, Jack, and I don't know.  I _wanted_ to tell you, I just didn't know if I could.”  She quickly sat up a little straighter, and her focus settled on a place behind him. 

  


“Everything all right here?”  The Doctor and Rose, flushed from dancing, came up behind Jack and flanked him.   


“Fine, Doc.”  Jack rose to his feet, and Annie followed slowly, edging closer to him.  “Annie, these are my friends, the Doctor and Rose Tyler.  My ex-wife, Annie Bradley.”   


“Harkness,” Annie interjected smoothly.   


Rose blinked once, visibly noted the easy way they stood together, and smiled her best 'I hope you aren't unexpectedly dangerous' smile.  “Nice to meet you.  You've known our Jack for a while, then?”   


“Not as well as I thought,” Annie said, her voice leaden.  She turned back to Jack and gestured slightly towards Rose and the Doctor.  “So the three of you...?”   


“Yeah.”  _And let's skip the cheery how-sweet-how'd-you-meet conversation._  Jack didn't let his face give anything away, and Annie's face went blank for a moment, then set, as her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides.   


The Doctor, bless him, interrupted as usual.  “Bradley, as in the AI?  You're from here, then?”  He edged carefully around Rose to stand just next to Jack.   


“Yes, but it's Harkness now.”   


The Doctor gave Jack a hard look.  “You did say _ex_-wife?”   


Jack flinched.  It had been a while since the Doctor had asked him _that_ kind of question.  “Yeah, Doc.  Our marriage ended in 1915.”  Annie glanced at him and a genuine smile ghosted across her face for a moment.   


“Right.”  He turned back to Annie and asked brightly, “You know, I have some questions about some of the advances your company has been making....”   


“Not my company.”  The Doctor raised an eyebrow.  “I never sold my shares, but I've never really been involved.  That's my sister's job.  I was going into the Time Guild when I met Jack.”   


“The Time _Guild_?”  Rose asked.  The Doctor explained the differences between the Agency and the Guild, while Annie turned to Jack.   


“You really waited two years?”  For the first time since he saw her, her eyes had a smile in them.  


“Like I said, they never found the body.” _ I couldn't admit you were dead, Annie.  Don't you remember us well enough to figure this out? _ Jack didn't return the smile, and hers slowly faded.     


Jack noticed that Rose caught the interplay and studied Annie for a moment.  Years of travelling with Jack and the Doctor had taught her quite a bit about reading body language.  Jack was brilliant with people and the Doctor was incredibly observant, but Jack's first instinct was always to gauge levels of threat and lust, and the Doctor tended to steamroll other people's emotions when it suited his purposes.  So it was usually up to Rose to look below the surface.   


Jack's instincts for reading Annie were rusty.  He was well up on Rose-speak, though, and right now he could tell she saw pain in Annie and was empathizing with her.  Which under normal circumstances, would be a point in Annie's favor.  Right now, though, he wasn't sure what he wanted it to mean.  


The Doctor stepped forward and took Rose's hand.  “Well, yes, lovely to meet you, I'm sure, Anna.” He didn't actually touch Jack, but slouched carefully in his general direction.  Jack noticed Annie visibly restraining herself from correcting the Doctor again.   


Rose had no such compunction, and glared at the Doctor. “Yes, it has been.  Doctor, let's try that dance again, I don't think I quite got the hang of it the first time.  Jack, find us when you're ready.”  She nodded civilly to Annie and dragged the Doctor back to the dance floor. 

  


Anne glanced at the table, but when Jack made no move to sit down, she remained standing.  “So, you're happy, then?”  Her face worked for a moment as she tilted her head in question, and a lock of hair fell across her forehead.   


“Yes, we are.”  He put his hands in his pockets to keep himself from adjusting her hair like he would have in Cardiff, and after a moment, she did it herself.   


“I'm glad,” she replied, and he was momentarily surprised by the sincerity in her voice.  He wouldn't have been surprised, back then.  “I mean, I hate how this worked out, but I'm glad you're all right.”  She made to touch his arm, but pulled back at the last moment.  Her eyes quickly shifted from well-wishing to resignation.  The weight of the expected future she'd just been denied seemed to settle into her shoulders.   


“Thanks.”  He glanced towards the dance floor.  “I guess I'd better get going.”  _ I need out, and no need to mention I've got all the time in the...._  And with a start, Jack realized maybe he couldn't critique her for unilateral decision-making.  


“Right.  If you're going to stick around for awhile-” Jack stiffened at what he feared would be an invitation. “-you don't need to worry.  As soon as I'm decommissioned, I'll be leaving.”  She folded her hands behind her back. 

“The Guild?”   


“I suppose.  Four years of blending into an alien environment should do good things for my application.  And I'm not over-age yet.”  She gave a thin smile.   


He was surprised at how happy he was for her.  She was right, she'd do well in the Guild.  “We'll probably be on our way soon, too.”   


“All right.  Well, take care of yourself, Jack- and let them take care of you, too.”  She dropped her hands to her sides, apparently at a loss for what to do with them, and took a step back.   


“You too.”  Jack's voice turned rough.  “You too, Annie.”  He reached out, and after a moment, she stepped gracefully into his embrace.  Her hands went around his waist with practiced ease, and one of his arms cradled the nape of her neck while the other held her close.  “I'm so glad you're all right.”  Her breath hitched into his shoulder as he dropped a kiss on top of her head, and he stepped away.   


She looked down and swallowed, and after a moment looked up.  “Captain.”  Her eyes were clear.   


Jack grinned, and stood to attention.  “Captain.”  He snapped her a salute, and she gave an honest smile and returned it. _ Give 'em hell, Annie._  And they turned, and walked away from each other. 

  


The Doctor and Rose were on the edge of the dance floor, and they moved to flank him as they left the bar.  The three of them made two quick turns through the corridors together, without speaking, working their way towards the storage closet where the TARDIS waited.   


“All right, Jack?”  Rose reached for his hand and he clasped it gratefully.   


“Yeah.  I think so.”  He thought he heard a familiar thrumming behind him, but when he turned to look, nothing was there.  The Doctor put his hands in his pockets, and hummed a few eerily-familiar descending notes to himself. _ She's alive.  She's all right. _ “Better, actually.”   


“Good,” the Doctor added, abruptly cutting off his tune as they reached the TARDIS.  “So, we need to drop by Cardiff for a fuel-up, and you can look in on your team, Jack.  But after that, I was thinking, there's this pocket watch factory on Isochronus in the 4500s that makes actual Stargazers, and I think I can adapt their remote viewing system for the TARDIS....”  He opened the door and they stepped inside.   


Soon, it thrummed away.   


*   


Simultaneously eighty years later (on Jack's timeline) and ninety seconds earlier (on the station's), the TARDIS appeared forty meters down and two corridors from that very spot.  Jack stepped out, pack on his back, and turned quickly to grip the Doctor's hand.  “Thanks, Doc.”   


“Told you I'd find it again.  The rest's up to you.  I'll see you yesterday noon in Cardiff.”  The Doctor faked a relaxed pose against the doorway, arms folded.   


“Good luck with the Waldensians.”   


“Shame you can't come with me - but after that unfortunate incident with Sarah Jane and the atomic bicycle they really do insist that all their visitors come singly.  Their work on entropic flux should help with our little project, though.”  The Doc's grin only seemed a little forced.  Like it or not, though, the two of them needed a little time apart – and Jack was quite certain they'd waited long enough.  


“Yeah, I think I'd rather see to it my end is _before_ the end of the universe rather than after.  No need to see the Futurekind again.”   


“Right.  Well, see you yesterday, and take care of your Vortex manipulator.”  The Doctor nodded at him and unfolded his arms, standing up straight.   


“Hasn't broken in 75 years, Doc, don't see why it should now.”  Jack's grin was a study in casual, but he was still watching the Doctor carefully.  Time enough to change plans if necessary.   


“I'm going to go and do research on _entropy_, and you're asking questions like that?”  But the Doctor's eyebrows were apparently perfectly normal, so Jack wasn't too worried.   


“Right, right, sorry.”  Jack grinned, then turned serious.  “I really do appreciate this, Doctor.  Not that I don't still miss R-”   


“Yes, of course,” the Doctor interrupted hurriedly.  “But time to go.”  And he made his familiar 'shooing' motion.   


Jack looked at him carefully.  “You'll be all right?”   


“_Jack_.  I'll see you in a few weeks, you're the one on the slow road this trip.  Don't _worry_.  Now, off you go.  Have a good life.”   


“We will, I hope.  See you in a few decades, Doc.”   


“Soon, Jack.”  And he stepped back inside, and the TARDIS thrummed, and vanished.   


Jack turned, and jogged lightly down the corridor.  After a few quick turns, he saw a familiar dark head of hair.   


“Annie!”  She turned from the two young officers she was walking with, and he smiled.  “Annie, I have something to tell you!”


End file.
